


Like Rabbet Joints

by swastini



Category: The Hobbit (2012)
Genre: (also no one died in BOTFA), Arranged Marriage, Character Death Fix, F/M, M/M, Political Intrigue, Slow Burn, Thorin and Bilbo Being Stupid
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-09
Updated: 2013-03-09
Packaged: 2017-12-04 18:04:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/713514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swastini/pseuds/swastini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Erebor King's Council insists that Crown Prince Fili marry a dwarf from one of the six dwarf clans (excluding the Longbeards). Thorin Oakenshield and Bilbo Baggins try to stop the wedding from opposite ends, but find themselves colliding somewhere in the middle instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Rabbet Joints

**Prologue**

**Bilbo**

The letter comes in the midst of spring, on an especially beautiful Hevensday; Hamfast drops it off with a nervous smile as Bilbo tends the acacias in his garden. There is no name on the front of the envelope, but the back is sealed closed with a sigil of golden wax. The crest is dwarvish in origin – resembling four interlocking diamonds suspended in an angular crown – and immediately recognizable.

“Fili,” Bilbo exclaims. What news does the dwarf prince bring? Bilbo prays it is neither ill nor unsavory in nature.

He takes the letter home and reads it in private silence. In ten minutes, he has fully digested its content. In ten days, he has packed his bags for an extended visit to Erebor. He tells Hamfast to watch Bag End while he is gone, and sets off at midday, before his nerve can be questioned. The letter, tucked away in his breast pocket, sits heavy on his chest.

“The Royal House of Erebor invites you, friend of Durin’s Folk,” the letter reads in formal lettering. “To the wedding of Crown Prince Fili, sister-son of Thorin II, King Under the Mountain, on Durin’s Day of the Year 2943 of the Second Age.”

But it is the small scrawl of words at the bottom left corner of the page that spurs his feet and hastens his step. Written in the hand of a frantic young dwarf, the message only reads: HELP US!

**Thorin**

Thorin knows that he is not completely to blame for Fili’s current predicament. That honor goes largely to Erebor’s King Council, comprised of six meddlesome dwarves who are each of them as cunning as they are callous. “The King must marry,” they had clamored in High Court. “Erebor is returned to us and the Line of Durin must be secure for our kingdom to prosper. An heir must be born.” Thorin, the fool he is, had replied that his sister-sons were heirs enough.

And now his fate has been delegated to Fili – Fili, who has only just turned 84 – in the supposed name of succession.

Of course, Thorin is aware of the council’s true intentions. Each council member is descended from a clan of dwarves – the Firebeards and Broadbeams, the Ironfists and Stiffbeards, the Blacklocks and Stonefoots – and now, with Erebor newly restored, each clan is eager to marry into the royal family. Mahal, if only Thorin could circumvent their schemes. But Erebor is newly restored, and he needs the support of his kin to survive.

“You will not do this, Thorin,” Dis demands, fierce with a mother’s fury. “He is too young, he is not ready!”

“Uncle, no! You can’t!” Kili argues, his jaw and fists clenched. “How can you force Fili into something so cruel?”

Balin and Dwalin say nothing, as they flank their king on either side, but their eyes are downcast and lips pursed in matching frowns of disapproval. Thorin resists the urge to slam a palm against the table where his family confers. He is a King now, so he reins in his temper, but the anger and guilt twisting in his gut is almost too much to bear.

“I’ll do it,” Fili says. "I'll marry one of them. I'll join the clans."

Kili crows loudly in displeasure. Balin tips his head down further and places a hand on Fili’s shoulder. Dwalin does the same for Dis, who is all but screaming in violent protest. Thorin looks to his sister-son and heir. Fili’s back is held straight and strong, and if there is despair in his eyes it is barely visible, masked by a veneer of regal calm.

Thorin is proud and sickened all at once. If their quest the year before had not stripped the last of Fili’s childhood from him, then this is sure to be the finishing blow.

“Mum, please don’t be upset. Kili, shut up,” Fili says. “Now that this is all settled, I’ll like to go to my chambers. Uncle Thorin, let me know how the wedding is to proceed. Balin, Dwalin.” He gives them a stiff nod and all but runs out the room.

“Fili!” Kili cries, chasing after him.

Dis turns to follow. Thorin reaches out to clasp her arm and she smacks his hand away. “I will not forgive you for this,” she says plainly, before storming out the door.

His family has left. Thorin slumps into a chair and presses a knuckle against his temple, knowing that the blame will always be his, no matter the involvement of the council. If only there were a way to fix this. If only he had the guile to save his nephew from a loveless future. If only…

**Author's Note:**

> My first fanfic on this site, so be kind! I literally created this account to write Bagginshield though so look out this fic might become a monster AHAHA


End file.
